don't keep me waiting
by taco's bell
Summary: "Stop waiting for Prince Charming. Get up and find him, the poor idiot might be stuck in a tree or something." In which Jean struggles and Marco is patient and reality is something like a fairy tale.


For **feverly. **Because I've seen all the new fics/writers in the typical tag and I cannot compete jfcwth and **JeanMarco** is lovely. **AU.**

**—-**

"Stop waiting for Prince Charming. Get up and find him. The poor idiot may be stuck in a tree or something."

_Sometimes, it's Prince Charming who's waiting for you._

_—_

Jean meets him for the first time when the sun filters through the shade of the trees and the boy is dangling from a branch, face grim. The boy doesn't seem to notice Jean as he struggles to remove himself from the tree, arms reaching up uselessly.

"Oi," Jean speaks up, "what are you doing?"

The boy glances down, arms dropping, and a smile curves his lips. Relief. "I thought I was the only one who went out here. Quick, help me down!"

Jean crosses his arms, scoffs, "Why should I help you?"

The boy frowns down at him, freckles pinching. "Why do you need a reason to help someone?" Jean blinks and snorts, but starts to scale the tree, palms brushing against the rough indents. He climbs it easily enough. He falters when he reaches a base, uncertain of how to cross the thin branch to help the boy.

"What's wrong? Why aren't you moving?" The boy says, trying to twist around to look at Jean. Jean frowns, impatient himself.

"Shut up," Jean mutters, throwing his arms out as some poor measure of balance, "I'm coming." Edges forward onto the shaky branch that shivers every time he moves. The boy is painstakingly still and as he comes closer Jean can see that the branch had stabbed through the boy's shirt. As to how it even got there in the first place, Jean doesn't want to know. Stupid.

"Hold still," Jean snaps as he freezes, and the branch trembles for a moment before returning to its limp. The boy doesn't comment on the fact that he wasn't moving in the first place. It was just Jean. Instead, he tips his head back to catch a glimpse of him.

"It's alright, you can do this," the boy whispers, a smile. "You've made it this far."

"I don't need _you_ to tell me that," Jean grumbles, but he still ducks his head and narrows his eyes in focus. "You're the one who's stuck in the first place." The boy grins.

One, two, three, steps forward. Just a little reach, now. The branch finally gives way, shaking and letting off a loud crack. Jean cries out as he jumps forward, snagging a whisper of cloth, pulling as he falls. The sound of tearing cloth is reassuring for only a moment.

"My name is Marco!" the boy shouts out as he falls, and Jean notices wide, frightened eyes beneath him. Jean doesn't have time to ask before his face slams into the other boy's, skin meeting in strange places. The boy is a soft landing. Immediately, Jean jumps back, wiping furiously at his lips with his hand. The boy, Marco, just groans and turns on his side, curls into a fetal position.

It takes a little longer for Jean to realize the boy had taken the fall for both of them. As Jean crawls forward in concern, he notices the gashes on Marco's back. The back of the shirt is missing except for the lone strands. Jean frowns.

"Marco?" he says hesitantly. Marco opens his eyes listlessly, slants a look to Jean. A soft smile.

"I thought I was going to die," Marco says, "I thought it would be better if you at least knew my name. Thanks anyways."

Jean snorts childishly, turns away. "_That's _how you thought you were gonna die?"

Marco sits up with a wince, shrugging. Jean notices the wince and tears off the bottom half of his shirt, moves around Marco to wrap it around the freckled boy's wounds. Marco mutters his thanks again.

"Jean Kirschtein."

"Hm?"

"My name's Jean Kirschtein."

Marco looks surprised. Jean keeps his chin up. Marco smiles warmly at him then, a laugh just escaping his lips. Jean takes a second to join. It is not so hard to see, Jean thinks later fondly, how they became such good friends.

But it is different now. Jean is still as fond as Marco as ever, but there are differences in opinions and friendships are often cluttered that way. Jean hates the way Marco acts _superior _(he doesn't really) because he's going to join the Military Police for nobler reasons. Jean hates the way he can see Marco's not lying. Marco doesn't hate Jean for his reasons though, and that stings all the more.

"Jean," Marco says. "Do you think we could visit home sometime?"

"Not really," Jean says. "That was the whole point of joining. To get away from home." From danger.

Marco offers a weak smile, crosses his arms. "Yeah, yeah I guess you're right. I guess I just wanted to see those trees we used to hang out at."

"Really?" Jean says, but he doesn't expect an answer. He doesn't mean to suspend that strange hope that everyone seems to breathe, especially Eren. Marco is better than that.

"Yeah," and the words are too soft to mean anything, "really."

"What does Mikasa see in that asshole anyways?" Jean asks, leaning his back to the wall as Marco tends to his small bruises.

"They've been together a long time," Marco offers unhelpfully. Jean raises a fist to tap against the top of Marco's head lightly.

"Don't make it sound like they're a couple!" Jean says, and Marco only laughs. Jean lets the flush die down from his cheeks as Marco straightens, setting the bandages down to the side.

"Well, what do you see in Mikasa then?" Marco says, tilts his head to the side curiously. Jean falters, clears his throat.

"Her beautiful wavy black locks," Jean starts, "creamy pale skin, cunning powerful stance, her strength-" Marco knocks his shoulder against Jean briefly.

"Alright, I get it, I get it," Marco says and Jean only looks away, embarrassed. "But Mikasa can probably wax poetics the same way you just did for Eren. Maybe you should ask her someday."

"You're an idiot at this," Jean says, because it's true and Marco shrugs. "That'd be like encouraging someone you like to go after the person they like. And the person they like isn't you. That's stupid."

Marco gives Jean a hard stare, something not usual for his face and Jean blinks. After a second, Marco brushes it off with another grin, a comforting pat on the shoulder that's a little too strong.

"Don't worry about it, Jean. That was a stupid suggestion for someone like you." Jean doesn't know if he should be insulted, but considering the fact that it's Marco, he'll let it slide.

"Just keep trying and don't give up," Marco says. "But, sometimes, stupid people are happy."

Jean decides to give Marco's method a shot. But a lot more subtle. Which means you ask the friend.

"Oi, Armin," Jean calls out, waves him over to the empty spot next to him. Armin looks uneasy as Eren notices the gesture, grabs Armin's shoulder to prevent him from moving. Which gathers Mikasa's attention. Fuck, probably shouldn't ask when they're eating then.

Later, Armin is the one who seeks him out. Jean can see why they're always hovering over the guy, he's incredibly…weak-looking. At first glance, it looks like Armin is the one hovering near them like a third wheel, but Mikasa and Eren are actually very fond of him and make sure he's around. Anyways.

"You're the smart kind of guy," Jean says, ignores the unimpressed look Armin gives him. "Even you can tell the thing Mikasa has for Eren." Armin looks vaguely disturbed, shrugs.

"Yeah, yeah, deny it all you want, but even I can see it," Jean says. "The only thing I want to know is,_why._"

After a long silence, where it looks like Armin is actually contemplating, he offers, "They've been together a long time."

"You're no help, at all," Jean groans. Armin shrugs again.

So he tries the okay friend and the not-a-friend-at-all friend next. Christa offers words of encouragement that don't help at all and Ymir only gives him an amused glance.

"Why do you like Marco?" Ymir says, sees the look Jean shoots her, "you're kidding me. You guys are all over each other, and you aren't banging?" He can see why Ymir isn't popular like Christa.

Jean stares pointedly at the way Ymir's arm is wrapped around Christa's shoulder. Ymir winks. Christa sighs.

He actually gives Ymir's words some serious thought. And then he realizes.

"_Sometimes, stupid people are happy." _Shit.

Jean doesn't know how to actually go about it. Does he randomly pop out of the blue and say 'hey thanks but I'm not into you' or does he wait for Marco to make the move and then politely shoot him down? But that'd be like leading him on. Fuck.

What better way to alleviate frustration then knock some teeth out of Eren's mouth? The asshole's been waiting for it anyways. But when Marco wraps his arms around Jean to hold him back (as he always always does) he finds himself shivering and shoving the freckled boy aside. Marco looks shocked. And Jean runs away.

"It's alright," Marco says, throws his hands up when he finds Jean. "I'm not going to touch you."

Jean groans, "Was I that obvious?"

"Just a little bit," Marco grins, stops when he sees how uncomfortable Jean is. "I never meant for you to find out."

"But I did," Jean says, because it's true and Marco shrugs.

"It's alright," Marco repeats, "I'm not going to touch you. Still friends?"

The 'yeah' gets caught in his throat.

He's being a dumbass. Even Jean realizes it, and he's the one being a dumbass. Marco doesn't try to push anything, even goes as far as avoiding Jean. It's not like the guy's unpopular, he has a lot more friends. Still, he was-is Jean's best friend, and he's an idiot for trying to diminish that. Besides, he misses his touch, not in _that way _(maybe because it was never like that). His soft warm smiles.

And okay, maybe he can see it now.

He plans on talking to Marco once they join the Military Police but things happen and they end up deporting where the Titans are. Home. It's not the best homecoming they can come to, but at least Marco sees it.

"So you're a leader now," Marco says, and Jean nods. "Good. I know you can do it. You understand, after all."

"Yeah, about that," Jean says, brings a hand up to Marco's shoulder hesitantly, "I changed my mind." He doesn't say the last words as confident as he hoped but Marco takes it in stride.

"Stress makes you say strange things," Marco says and Jean scoffs, drops his hand, but Marco only takes it in his to form a fist. "Still friends?" He offers his fist to bump against.

The 'yeah' is the only thing he's confident of. And as Marco jumps away to his squad, he thinks there might be room for more. But only slight. It's alright though, Marco is patient.

Later when they're cleaning up the bodies, Jean doesn't find Marco. Good, he thinks, one good thing from this. Eventually the smell and the sight sicken him so much, he sneaks off. It's selfish and unreasonable but Jean knows the area like home, and he's only going to see the trees for a few minutes. It's risky. They haven't cleared the whole area yet, but the titans seemed to stop coming so they rested.

There's one lurking among the trees, mouth bloody and wet. It sees Jean the moment Jean sees it. It's risky. Jean kills it anyway. When he steps off the titan's neck and looks up, he sees the tree. More importantly, the thing that's waving to the wind's wishes, hanging from a branch. The blood has long since bled out, half of the flesh torn off. The body is impaled on the branch, like something had taken it and smashed it on. Too coordinated. But Jean doesn't think about that now.

Jean stills, a name breaking on his lips like a fragile thing, and only the wind answers.

"Marco?"

**—**

_Sometimes, it's Prince Charming who's waiting for you._

Sometimes, you've kept him waiting too long.


End file.
